Forever Denied
by Higuchimon
Summary: Mana mourns for what was stolen from her.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters presented here and am not making any profit off of this whatsoever.  
**Title:** Forever Denied  
**Word Count:** 2,207  
**Rated:** PG  
**Romance:** Mahaado x Mana  
**Notes:** This was written for the fourth season of the Yu-Gi-Oh Pairings Challenge. Comments and criticism gratefully accepted.  
**Summary:** Mana mourns for what was stolen from her.

* * *

Mana stared at all of the scrolls laid out before her. She'd managed to control her crying, but it wasn't very easy. A few tears still trickled down her cheeks and she sniffed, trying to do her best to look as if she weren't as miserable as she was. _Master._

He was gone. He was gone because of that _horrible_ Bakura person. If he came back, it wouldn't be the same. He was a ka now, in service to the Pharaoh. Not that he had ever _not_ served the Pharaoh, but now it was more than ever before, in a way that she couldn't help with.

All of this belonged to her now, she'd been told. Mahaado had wanted her to have the accumulated knowledge of his life and of his teachers before him. She didn't even have the first idea of how to do some of what they could do. She had focused all of her studies on trying to manifest her ka and minor magical tricks. What Mahaado could do was so far beyond her.

But she was going to learn to do it anyway, because it was what he had wanted of her, what he'd expected of her. She wouldn't let him down. She couldn't let him down. She _wanted_ to be a credit to him, she always had.

Mana hadn't started off as a priestess. Truth to be told, she'd been a little minx of a street girl, a thief, taking what she could, using her poorly controlled magic to steal food from the sellers in the marketplace.

Once in a while, when there were too many people for her to do that, she would lift a purse here and there and get a few coins to buy food with. That had been what had changed everything for her: because one day, she'd stolen the purse of Mahaado himself.

When she'd stared up into his eyes, she'd been terrified at first that she would end the day in jail or worse. There were already rumors going around about what happened to thieves who were caught: their kas taken from them and sealed into stone slabs to be slaves to the priests and Pharaoh for all time.

Instead, Mahaado had offered to teach her better control of her powers and to make her a priestess herself, to serve others with what she could do. That had been a much better offer than anything else she had, and from then on, she had been completely loyal to him.

Loyal, and something more. She hadn't really known it until she'd seen him in the stone slab herself, and had known that the chance which she had unconsciously hoped for was now gone forever. She had been more than loyal to Mahaado.

She had been in love with him. It had been a love that would have more than likely gone unnoticed, unanswered, unrequited, even if Bakura hadn't come to interrupt their lives. But it had been there all the same.

She couldn't know, would never know, if Mahaado had even seen her as something more than the little child he'd rescued from the marketplace and a probably short life as a thief. If she'd been caught doing something much worse than petty theft, and if it had been someone else who had caught her, then she could have spent the rest of her life in the dungeons or worse.

Maybe that was part of why she loved him so much. He'd taken her from being a grubby little nothing to someone who would _be_ someone in Egypt, if they all managed to survive all of this, and if there was even an Egypt after it was over with. She couldn't see the future, and if Priestess Isis had seen anything, the older woman hadn't told it to her.

_Why did that thief have to do that?_ You didn't have to be evil to be a thief. She knew that very well, better than anyone. But he was. She didn't know his reasons and she didn't want to know them. He'd done so much worse than steal treasures from a tomb, which was horrible enough. He'd stolen her _master_ from her, her teacher and friend, the love she had yet to fully realize.

He wouldn't get away with it. It was going to take her a long time to learn everything that was in all of these scrolls, but she would do it, she promised herself. She would find a way to make Bakura pay for what he'd done.

Mana slumped down in her chair and laid her head on the scrolls, tears falling once again. She wasn't certain anymore of how long it had been since Mahaado had died. Her heart told her that it should have been ages. The whole world should have changed beyond reorganization. But whenever she looked up and outside, everything was just the same as it had always been.

If she hadn't known better, known that the Gods would not insult Mahaado like that, she might have thought that it _was_ an insult. But he had done what he had done for their honor and for the protection of Egypt and the Pharaoh. He would be only honored and welcomed into the Fields of the Blessed because of that.

She closed her eyes, still not ready to really look at the world or at all of those scrolls, no matter how strong her resolve. She was going to learn them all but not yet. Her mourning wasn't done. She wouldn't even know for certain when it would be. Mahaado couldn't even have a proper funeral, since no one knew where his body was, other than in the old tomb. But that was sealed and no one else was allowed in there, ever again. They couldn't risk letting Bakura out.

_He's going to get out, though._ Mana was very certain of that, though she had nothing on which to base her knowledge. She simply _knew_. Perhaps the Gods wanted her to know. Regardless, they would still not be able to send Mahaado to the afterlife with all due ceremony.

But he would need to stay, wouldn't he? With his ka and ba fused and now part of the slab, the Pharaoh's eternal servant, he couldn't go to the afterlife. He might be needed here at any time. But…to be forever bound to the earth…

That was something else that Bakura would have to answer for, she decided. She sniffled and rubbed at her face. Her cheeks hurt from all the tears that she'd shed. Her heart hurt from everything that had happened. Her soul hurt from just…everything.

All things considered, even knowing that she had to study, she knew she couldn't. She still felt far too weak, physically speaking. She needed to rest. But that also meant going through Mahaado's rooms. As his apprentice, her quarters had been reached through his.

At least, that was the usual way it was supposed to happen. Mana knew how to get into her room without having to go through her master's. She'd figured that out shortly after having moved into the palace in the first place. She still liked to wander around the city or in the gardens or by the river, watching the moon shine down on the pale white lilies, like miniature moons themselves, whenever she had spare time. It was rude to bother Mahaado when she wanted to go in or out, so she'd worked out how to squirm through the windows and how to climb the walls in order to get up or down.

Could she still do that now? The guards were on a much higher alert since everything that had been going on. She'd usually been able to work her way through them with the help of her magic then. She thought she could…and she really wanted to.

She would have to get over this feeling soon, though. She needed to be able to go through his rooms and not feel all the pain. Not to mention that she didn't even know yet if she would still be in those rooms for much longer. She didn't know what plans the Pharaoh had for what to do about her or Mahaado's belongings. There was so much that wasn't _known_ about what to do if there was no way to give someone a proper burial. If they had been able to, then many of his possessions would have been buried with him.

Mana drew herself up at last and left the room, taking the shortest route that she knew towards the quarters that had been her home for the last several years. There were still guards out there, who nodded towards her as she entered. At least she didn't have to worry about sleeping in a strange place tonight.

The room hadn't been changed yet, beyond an obvious visit by the servants. Mana almost expected to look around and see Mahaado there somewhere, looking at her with that usual kind and exasperated look. She always enjoyed being able to make him smile. That was what at least some of her pranks had been for. Seeing him with those long and fuzzy ears for two days had been worth several laughs.

_If I'd been better, if I'd been stronger, I could've helped him._ And perhaps Mahaado would not be where he was now. Her heart ached even more and she dropped down to her knees beside his bed. Her imagination gave her the image of him being in it, and feeling his arms around her, as they had been so few times.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

Again the tears flowed, and she didn't even want to stop them. She wanted to remember being in his arms and hearing his voice, teaching her how to control her power, teaching her how to look for the ka spirit within herself, teaching her the ways of the court that she would one day join. Nothing very certain had ever been said, but it was generally understood that one day, if it accepted her, she would bear the Millennium Ring.

That was something else that Bakura had stolen from her: another part of Mahaado's legacy to her. She didn't know for certain if he himself had it, but she knew that she didn't, and even if he hadn't claimed it, then it wasn't where _she_ could ever have it. Taken from her, taken from the Pharaoh. Was there nothing the thief wouldn't take for himself?

Mana had no idea of when she had fallen asleep, or even if she really had fallen asleep. All she knew was that the arms she had thought she was imagining were suddenly there, and she could feel the familiar embrace of Mahaado. She didn't want this to be a dream, but she worried that it was.

"Mana." Mahaado's voice was ever so slightly hollow, and she still refused to open her eyes. If it was a dream, she didn't want to see him as he was now, as the mergence of the Magician of Illusion and himself, the Black Magician. She wanted to see him as he had been: her teacher, her friend, the object of endless dreams and fantasies. Her love.

But her eyes opened anyway, and she saw that familiar face, and in those familiar clothes, so close to her. Without a single thought, she leaned forward and did what she had wanted to do for so long: kissed him. If what had happened next hadn't, she might have passed it off as simply the enthusiasm of seeing him again. Instead…he kissed her back.

When they finally did move apart, Mana started to say something. She wasn't quite certain what she was going to say, since Mahaado shook his head. "I cannot stay long, Mana. The Gods permitted me this one visit to tell you this: I love you. I cannot say for how long. Perhaps in another time or another life we will have a chance to finish what could have been."

Mana bit her lip a little. "But you're the Pharaoh's servant now, forever. You can't be reborn." That was what had always been said, though there had been few who had merged their soul and spirit the way that he had.

"I only know that there may be a chance one day. Stand by the Pharaoh, Mana, and be as loyal as I know you can be. I trust you." Mahaado gazed down into her eyes, and she was as awed as she had ever been by his wisdom and knowledge and trust in her, and even more so by the love she could see there now. "I love you."

She clung to him again, torn between feeling too young and too old. He held her once more, and she didn't want to do anything _but_ stay there, as long as she possibly could, until somewhere in between one breath and the next, he was gone. She could still feel his embrace, whether it was a dream or not.

"Someday," she murmured, with new conviction. Someday, somehow, they would be together again. She had no doubts about it at all.

**The End**


End file.
